The Breakfast Club: A True Bond?
by thetangledwebwe-weave
Summary: This is post Saturday detention. It's mainly going to focus on Bender, and his relations with the other BC members, but it jumps around a little. This story is rated T. But please read and review! Chapter 6 up! More Bender, Claire, and Andy.
1. What does not kill us

Author: The tangled web we weave

Archive: if you want, just tell me, please!

Review: Yes!

Warnings: Yes! There's some heavy language, as well as child abuse, drinking, and drugs. Damn, that makes it sound bad when it's all written out…sorry!

Hey, this is the tangled web we weave, back (finally! It's summer…) for your reading pleasure! Okay, so this is gonna start out completely Bender-centered, and then in later chapters it will move around a little. By the way, I may be making changes to this chapter (likewise for any successive chapters that I write) so if something seems out of place, it may be b/c I changed it. But I'll give you some warning, don't worry. So, continue! (Sorry if this is pretty bleak at first…I've written the next few chapters, and I think they're a little better…Btw, this is Sunday, the day after the Breakfast Club detention)

The Breakfast Club-A True Bond?

Chapter one: "What does not kill us, only makes us stronger..." Nietszche

"John Bender! What the fuck do you think you're doing! Get your sorry ass down here! No one, and I mean, NO ONE, touches my case of beer. Clear? It's _my_ fucking case of beer!"

John Bender couldn't be bothered to determine where his father's voice was coming from. His speech was slurred, he'd been drinking, and he was even more pissed than usual. 'Great,' thought Bender. 'Fucking great. Too bad I don't give a fuck. He's too damn drunk to do anything anyway.' Safe in his judgment, John Bender took another swig of beer from the half empty bottle, crossing his right leg over his left on what passed for his bed. He was sitting in his black cargoes, and a baggy, unbuttoned t-shirt; at home he had no need to hide the scars from anyone. They weren't all very large, but that hadn't stopped them from hurting like hell when they were inflicted. The burns, the cuts from his father's ring (the most expensive piece of jewelry in the house until Claire gave John her diamond earring), and the occasional welt from the odd piece of furniture which had been closest to hand. John slowly traced each of the twelve scars with his index finger, noting their paleness against his natural dark skin.

"Hey! Get your sorry ass down here, ya no good whelp!" Unfortunately, John's father had not yet passed out, and was leaning crookedly against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. His voice seemingly went right through the walls, and Bender suddenly sat up straighter in the old wooden chair. If his father hadn't passed out yet, then he wasn't going to any time soon…and his anger could only lead to abuse. He mulled over this for a minute, and then made a decision that had been hounding him for most of his life. "Not this time" John said to no one in particular. 'Not here, not now. I'm leaving. There's nothing else for it.' He quickly jumped up, hands shaking slightly as he patted his pockets with nervous, sweaty palms. Now that it came to it, he wasn't sure what to do. 'Well, I can't go outside like this,' John realized, looking over himself. He quickly shrugged out of his unbuttoned t-shirt, and pulled a clean gray long-sleeved shirt on. He grabbed the t-shirt again and his gloved fingers fumbled with the buttons. 'Go through the window? Nah, there's no ledge. Two floors up and the driveway beneath. I don't want to end up with a broken back. Then I couldn't move if the old man wanted to hurt me…' John was now searching through his stuff, trying to decide what to take with him. If he ever got out of the house, what would he really need to remind him of his old home? So much for a different life after Saturday. He distractedly pushed his fingers through his long hair.

'Angelica's room. That'll have to do. There's a drainpipe I can climb down on outside of her room.' That was the only way that John Bender referred to his mother: by name. She was no better than his father, even if he hit her too. Since he was little, his mother never really cared for him. Why bother with a child when she could have sex? So she was just there in the background, another face, another name. She slept around at people's houses (to escape from the responsibility of her house; both its occupants and its appearance, although this only made John's father even more infuriated), and wouldn't be here at this time of night. 'Great. Think I got everything. Jean jacket, shirts, socks, knife, yeah. Everything's here…' However, as John was ticking off items on his mental checklist, he suddenly remembered something: money. "Shit! I don't have any fucking money!" Not to mention that he had no way to get any, and that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday during their lunch break. "Aw, fuck. This Sunday is really shitty. I'll just have to scrounge some. Shake some off someone around here. Roll a drunk. Whatever." Bender simply muttered to himself, trying to keep his mind alert. Maybe that beer didn't go so well with the weed he'd blazed up and smoked earlier. "Aw, shit!" His drugs! This wasn't exactly going as smoothly as he had planned. "God, I don't have any fucking time left now!" he berated himself. And yet, as he inched his door wider, he realized that he would need them. Going cold turkey when he had nowhere to crash and sleep off the cravings until he could obtain more weed wasn't the best idea. So he turned back into his room, and walked swiftly to his bed. He picked up a ratty corner of the now off-white and partially un-stuffed mattress, but dropped it just as quickly. In the hallway, there were footsteps. Ones that he knew were falling with the heaviness of alcohol and anger. It was all he could do to not scream in frustration and fear.

This was the John Bender that no one saw; shaking slightly in the anticipation of anger, loathing, and pain. His palms seemed to be pouring out sweat all of a sudden, and he sat down heavily on the creaking springs of his bed. He felt fear creep into his very bloodstream, spreading through his tense body. John remembered that Vernon had made him feel like this in that damn storage closet. Good ole Dick had acted like Bender Sr., and he was gonna pay for it someday. But right now, all John could focus on was the man lurking in the hallway.

The footsteps were outside his door now, and the twin shadows of legs were backlit by the dying light in the hallway. 'Fuck it all. Lost my chance, because of my stupid dope. My damn fucking dope. Dick's right. If it were on fire, what would I do? I would die for it. Hell, I'm about to now.' He had a few last seconds to steel himself before the door swung back with a shattering crack to the wall. Now was no time to be afraid. John's father was standing in the doorframe fuming.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room? Piss off." John stood up facing his father, effectively masking his fear.

"What? Excuse me? No you don't! No One, NO ONE, talks to me like that. Ya hear? Get over here boy! Get the fuck over here, ya half-wit!" He was pissed, in both senses of the word. His face was a bright, angry, red as well as puffy, and he was clutching an empty beer bottle in one hand. He began to motion harshly with his other hand, stabbing downwards at the floor, his ring glinting ominously in the light. "Get over here, NOW!" John couldn't contain himself, and his façade, which surfaced to hide his distress so naturally now, popped up, making a rather inopportune appearance.

"And what if I don't?" Bender spat the last word out as though he could punch his slob of a father with it alone. His father sneered in response, and began in a calm tone, which gradually increased in intensity and harshness.

"Trouble, John. That's all you ever were. That's all you've ever caused, and you know what? That's all you'll ever be. But I'm gonna give you some of your own _trouble _tonight, ya little bastard." John's anger left him for a moment. Trouble. It was all he ever was. And it appeared that it was true. Vernon thought it, all the teachers thought it, and so did all the students. Even after the slightly liberating Saturday detention he'd had, it still seemed right. He was trouble, and he asked for it. Deep down inside, there was some hope that he could be different struggling to come up for air, but his father was quashing most of it. And the fact that one word could be used to describe him - all his pain, suffering, desires, hopes, feelings; everything that made up the true essence of John Bender - made him feel sick. Despite The Breakfast Club- Andy, Claire, Allison, and Brian, and all their thoughts, epiphanies, and emotional outpourings- at the end of the day, John Bender was still trouble. 'Or at least I'm _in trouble_. Really fuckin' deep trouble, at that,' he thought as his father's voice broke through his musings.

"I'm gonna give you a night to remember. Maybe then you'll learn to avoid trouble when you see it coming." And with that, his father took three long strides into the room, balled up his fist, and before John had any time to react, he was on the ripped knees of his jeans, gasping for breath, and clutching desperately at a broken nose.

"Fuckin' 'ell! That was my _NOSE _dammit!" John barely had time to turn his face away as the fist came swinging back in his direction, clipping his head with the large ring his father always wore. 'Another scar for my collection,' he thought sourly. He had been knocked onto the floor from the last blow, and was scrunching his eyes tight in an effort to block out the pain from the cut on his temple and his broken nose. Blood was running down his chin, neck, and the side of his face, not to mention the fact that one gloved hand was coated in it as well. All he could feel was pain, and the sticky blood that poured through his fingers. His father was yelling at him again, but he was a little preoccupied with keeping at least _some_ of his blood _inside_ his body.

With his eyelids sealed tightly, he didn't see the kick coming, which rammed into several of his lower ribs. There was a sickening crunch, and Bender's eyes shot open as at least three of his ribs cracked. John couldn't tell, but he thought he heard someone scream. 'The infamous Bender, criminal of the school, screaming?' was the only thought that he could manage. Nothing he had ever felt compared to what his mind registered now. His lower chest seemingly exploded in fierce, fiery pain, and with the added trauma of his broken nose and the concussion he had gained from the hit to his head, spots jumped into his vision, and his head lolled to the side as he passed out cold. His dive into unconsciousness was fortunate (probably the luckiest thing that had happened to him that day), as he couldn't feel the last few kicks that his father swiftly delivered to his midriff, a few times stabbing into John's already damaged rib cage.

John's father was panting by the end, and he looked satisfied at what he had accomplished. Then, he moved towards his son for what he really wanted: that earring. The fact that John had taken a beer was trivial compared to that diamond earring. It had been glinting there, taunting him, for the past day, and in his drunken stupor all he could think of was whether his no-good son had stolen it, and how much money he could get for it at the pawn shop. He reached down, and pulled John's blood-matted hair back, grasping onto the earring and its back with dirty, bloodied fingers. Finally, he had his prize clenched in his fist, and as he stormed out, he threw his beer bottle across the room, letting it shatter into pointed and ragged shards by his son's head. He gave one last satisfying sneer to the unconscious teenager on the floor, and stormed back downstairs to visit the local rowdy tavern.

Okay, that's the first chapter. Please tell me if it's been well done, or if it needs to be revamped and fixed in any way. Is this a good version of Bender? I think so…but if you don't, tell me! And about the title - this is the true quote, right? Please let me know... Thank you for reading, and once again, pardon the language, etc, but I felt it was necessary to give it feeling. Come back soon!

the tangled web we weave


	2. How true were their words?

Author: the tangled web we weave

Archive: Sure! Just tell me, please.

Review: Yes please!

Warnings: Not really for this chapter, although there are mentions of drinking / drugs in the next section.

Hello again! Okay, this is a really short chapter, (sorry!) but I thought it would be fun to leave you hanging a little before I moved to the next section. So I'm gonna post the next chapters today as well. I haven't changed anything in the last chapter, although I did realize that at first I said he was wearing his black cargoes, and then I said he was wearing jeans…sorry! And thank you to those who reviewed! Okay, here - read!

Chapter Two - How true were their words?

>>>>> 

"Look Andy, you know we can't just forget what happened. I mean, I feel like things have changed now. Or at least, maybe I've changed." Claire said with a small, hopeful smile. She had been gesticulating, but she began to fidget with her hands in her lap. "I guess I'm just worried about the way things will work out tomorrow, you know?" She looked up at Andrew, waiting to hear whether he, too, was uncomfortable about facing his friends. Since he was driving, Claire couldn't see his full reaction, but it looked as thought he was thinking about what she had said.

"Yeah. Yeah, me too," he finally responded, giving Claire a comforting look and nodding in the affirmative. He lapsed into thought, and then spoke up a few minutes later. "I mean, it's not like I really care about hurting the feelings of my friends- well, I guess they're gonna end up being my ex-friends, but I'm not really worried about hurting them," He took in Claire's slightly surprised look, and quickly continued. "Really, they're pretty shallow as it is; I don't know how worried they would be about _me_ changing. I think it's really that they'd just be surprised, and that they wouldn't have myuntarnished _reputation_ to stock up their posse anymore." Claire smiled in response; she knew exactly what he was talking about. They were passing the park, and Claire turned to look at it, one of the grassier spots in their area. What she saw surprised her, but Andy didn't notice immediately.

"You see, with Allison, there's just so much more. Ya know? She just seems more, I dunno, _human,_" he finished. Andrew threw a glance at his passenger, but she was staring intently out the window. He frowned. "Hey, what's so interesting out there?" To tell the truth, he was a little annoyed that she wasn't listening to his "inner feelings" while he was willing to talk about them. But Claire had heard him, and she started.

"What? Sorry. I uh…well, there's just this guy in the park on the bench, and it looks, kinda, you know, kinda like…" Here she paused for a minute, trying to make up her mind. She turned back to Andrew. "It looks like Bender," she finished.

>>>>>> 

Okay, I know it was short, buthere wehave the other characters starting to come into play! Yay! You'll see much more of Andy, Claire, and John in the next few chapters…coming up - now! Thanks for reading, as usual, review, tell me what you think…there'll be more character development in the next chapters as well. Come back soon!

the tangled web we weave


	3. What would you do?

Author: the tangled web we weave

Archive: Yeah. Just tell me. Thanks.

Review: Please!

Warnings: Just mentions of drugs/drinking mostly.

Disclaimer: Whoops! Forgot about this! Sry! Yeah, so, you know the deal. I wish I owned them (at least Bender, heehee), but sadly, I don't.

Okay, third chapter here. I'm posting the next chapter too. Like, right after this. I'm also one of those people who can't stand to have something end! And btw, the next section is gonna be much longer than this, so get excited. Okay, on with the show! >>So sorry! There was a blackout in my neighborhood just before I posted this! Grr...at least all my stuff was saved...So here it is, with the next chapter right in tow. I'm posting them at about the same time. Sorry again!

>>>>>o

Chapter Three: What would you do?

"_It looks like Bender," she finished._

"What? Bender? Really?" Andy asked, surprise evident in his voice. 'What the hell would he be doing outside this late? It's frickin' freezin' outside,' Andy wondered.

"Yeah, I think it's him," Claire responded, her nose pressed against the chilly glass, and her breath making little frosted circles on the window with each word she spoke. Suddenly, she turned back to Andy. "Andy, he doesn't look too good. And it's freezing outside tonight," She turned pleading eyes up to him. "Could we pull over? I mean, just to see what's going on?" Personally, Andy was a little wary of doing just that. 'I mean, a guy like him, out in the park alone, at night? He could be doing anything, especially something like taking hard drugs or drinking, or waiting for a drug dealer…' He looked back at Claire, and realized he had to do something. He could see in her eyes that she was concerned for Bender, and it suddenly occurred to him that he should be worried too; after all, the five of them had said yesterday that they were going to break the mold and get to know one another. He really shouldn't be judging John Bender as harshly anymore. Claire was still waiting for him to say something.

"Uh, yeah. What do you mean he 'doesn't look too good'? Maybe he just, you know, uh…" Claire was giving him the 'don't even say it - although though I know you will' look. Andy continued with his train of thought, as he wasn't sure he could put the _facts _that he knew about John aside. He was truly still a little worried about being in a park alone with a possibly drunk or stoned Bender. Especially with Claire there. He did have that switchblade in detention too… "Look, I mean, maybe he just had too much smoke for one night or something. Do you really think we need to-?"

"Yes." Claire interrupted him. She gave him a stern look as they began to pull over. "Look at him," she said, and pointed in the direction of the bench. Andy craned his neck to see around Claire and out the window. He couldn't make out much more than a bench, half lit by a park light, and a hunched-over figure on one end. Since he couldn't see much of anything in the dim light, he made up his mind and went on Claire's word, pulling the car to a stop at the curb. 'Well, now is the perfect time to prove our friendship,' Claire thought to herself. 'I hope he's okay…' They both stepped out of the station wagon(?), throwing slightly uncertain glances at one another. If Bender had heard the car stop and the two of them get out, he definitely did not show it. Claire inadvertently shivered in the cold as they began to walk on the asphalt of the park's pathway. As they drew closer, they both took notice of the way the he seemed to have his arms wrapped protectively around his torso, and the way he hunched over, as if in pain. In the back of their minds, a memory from detention surfaced, one which neither wanted to be proved this night. Claire showed Andy an expression of slight apprehension, and he returned it, now genuinely concerned for the 'criminal' of the school. In the dim light, it also appeared that there was something wrong with his face; it seemed oddly swollen, but they both hoped that it was simply the shadows. Once more, their concerned eyes met, and then they hurried their steps towards the motionless form of John Bender.

>>>>>o

(?) Author question: I'm really not sure what to call Andy's car...I know it's not a station wagon really...but if anyone could help me out with what type of car his dad owns, that would be awesome!

So, that was the third chapter. I know, it's short, and I'm sorry! But I liked it with the break in there, so here it is. But I'm posting the next chapter right now - so never fear - Bender will be back in that one! Yay! does happy dance Thanks for reading again! Come back soon!

the tangled web we weave


	4. Bender's Buddies

Author: the tangled web we weave

Archive: yeah, if you want…but tell me, please

Review: Definitely! (Thank you to all who have!)

Disclaimer: Yeah, okay. I wish Bender was mine, but he's not. None of them are. : (

Warnings: Yeah, there's language, mentions of violence/injuries, and mentions of drugs. There's also a bunch of angsty stuff in here, and since I've been getting good reviews about that, I'll try to keep that mood going. (except when Bender really needs a break, you know?)

And here's the fourth chapter! I'm sorry for the delay, I know I said it would be posted at almost the same time as the third section, but I had to check it over once again, especially after that black out that knocked out our AC and the computer! Grrrr…. But I hope you like this one; it's got tons of that bad boy we love. And it's got plenty of Claire and Andy too - the others will probably be coming into the story soon. And, like I said, this one is heavy on angst and, sadly, there's a bunch of pain. Sorry! But I think it's necessary for his character. Now go enjoy : )

>>>>>

Chapter Four: Bender's Buddies

John Bender couldn't remember a time when he was more miserable than this night. At times he had felt freezing cold, when he would shiver uncontrollably, and then it would switch, and he would suddenly feel as though he was burning up. It hurt for him to breathe, to walk, to _think_, and he felt almost constantly as though someone had shaken up his head and re-arranged everything inside of it. Just like that damn library file card holder he had screwed with yesterday. Earlier, he had tried smoking a little in the hopes that it would act like a painkiller, but he could hardly take a full breath without coughing painfully, let alone breathe smoke into his lungs. Besides the fact that his dope had gotten him into trouble in the first place. And there was that word, trouble! 'Enough of that, think about something else, damn brain!'

He didn't have anywhere to go, and he was supposed to be at school tomorrow. 'Well, fuck that!' He thought. 'I can't even stand up without feeling sick. It's a wonder I even managed to get here. Thanks dad! Great job, you went and killed your no-good son! Hope you're happy!" Bender laughed bitterly in his mind. He pulled his arms tighter (but not too tightly!) around his chest at the thought of his father, and the memory of what had transpired in his room. Thoughts of yesterday's detention also came to his mind, and when he had let his fellow 'prisoners' in on his family life. 'How fucking stupid could I be? I bet those pricks will go and tell half the school. Fucking detention. I wonder if the richies will give half a damn about the rest of us.' Truly, he wanted one of them to still give a damn about him, especially since he gave a damn about her, which did not happen often. He knew that Allison might talk to him - after all, she lived down close to his end of town, but he wasn't sure about Brian. Sure, Brian was a geek, but he was cool enough and all, so Bender wouldn't really mind getting to know him. Yet the two members of the Breakfast Club he was the most worried about were Sporto and the Princess. What could they have to gain from a friendship with people like Brian, Allison, and him? 'True, we have more feelings than any of the jocks or ditzes, but do I really need them as friends anyway? I've always made it by myself…' He dropped his hand lower on his chest, feeling the swollen flesh around his injured ribs through his shirts. 'Yeah, if I call drugs, stupid babes, an abusive father, and being cocky and without friends 'making it,'' he sighed inwardly. Then Bender retreated to thoughts of his life, and his home, and what it was doing to him.

Suddenly, he heard the engine of a car come to a stop and sputter out at the edge of the park, and then two car doors slammed shut. He didn't bother to lift his head up to look, because he had two ideas of who it could be. The first thought that had popped into his head was that it might be the police, who had come to get 'one of those burn outs' out of the park on a late Sunday night. And yet, his other idea was more unpleasant: that his father had gotten into a car with one of his 'beer buddies' as Bender liked to call them, and come looking for him.

'I gotta do something,' he realized. He knew that he couldn't get anywhere very fast, but it was better to try than to wait for his father or the police to come and drag him off the bench. He could make out two sets of footsteps now, and he realized he didn't have much time to think before they reached him. 'I could really use a head-start tonight,' Bender thought ruefully. So he relinquished his right hand's grip around his chest, and after fumbling for the back of the bench, he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet. He gritted his teeth, and grimaced (as much as was possible with his swollen nose and cheeks), dismayed at how much any movement hurt. He felt as though someone had tilted the world to the side, as the grass started blurring, and he swayed on his feet. John thought he heard the footsteps running now, and he gagged as a wave of nausea washed over him. He doubled over, feeling the pain in his ribs intensify as his stomach contracted. There was definitely a shout of: "Oh my gosh, John!", and he realized that it was feminine and familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. 'At least that rules out the possibility of it being my father…' he thought dryly, as he fell as gently as possible to his knees.

When he had first woken up on the floor of his room earlier, he had been sick, and now there was nothing left in his stomach but bile, which he could only spit out. After a minute, his stomach settled down, and he leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth on his un-bloodied glove, and then wrapping both arms around his chest. One set of footsteps had stopped, and he felt someone kneel next to him, and steady his shoulders with their hands, since he was still swaying slightly. 'What?' he thought in astonishment. 'Who the hell would even pay attention to me?' he mused, thinking about his standing with most of the population of the school. For a minute there, it had sounded like...but why would it be?

"Hey buddy, take it easy," the person kneeling next to him spoke softly. Bender then realized that the second party had finally reached them, albeit a little out of breath. 'Those were definitely high heels,' Bender thought. 'And that voice, I know it too…' it dawned on him. From behind the curtain of his hair, he saw a blue athletic jacket, and figured that it was no other than Andrew Clarke, premier jock of Saturday's detention.

"John, are you okay?" he heard from above, and he recognized the voice as Claire's. He paused to take a breath before speaking up.

"Oh yeah, everything's just peaches and cream, Cherry. Peaches and cream," he responded. 'Does it look like I'm alright?' was what his 'outer side' wanted to say, but as it was, he was still slightly annoyed with his sarcastic tone. She just aked a question after all... He heard an exasperated sigh as the hands were taken off of his shoulders, and Claire crouched down next to Andy. Finally, John looked up, letting his hair fall back to either side of his face. Andy and Claire's eyebrows shot up, and while Claire let a gasp escape her lips, Andy let out an almost inaudible whistle.

"John! John, what happened? Oh my god, your face…!" Claire exclaimed. She was reaching out her hand to brush away the hair that fell across his cheeks. Bender felt that he needed to lighten them up a little. 'After all, it's only a broken nose…' he pandered to himself. 'Yeah, and some really screwed ribs, and a concussion, and a deep cut…' But he simply replied, attempting his special smirk:

"That bad, hunh?" He had to admit to himself, he sounded pretty half-hearted, and he stopped smirking when a twinge radiated from his nose through the rest of his face.

"John, what happened man?" Andy was asking, wide eyed. 'Well, so Sporto cares…not bad…' Bender smiled inwardly at the change. Claire put the locks of hair on his right side behind his ear.

"John, your hair's wet! You must be freezing!" She tentatively brushed her fingers over the bruised skin under his eye. He hissed, wincing from the contact, and she pulled away.

"Sorry," she said softly. Bender noticed that in her eyes was genuine concern, and he remembered the feel of her lips on his, and her hands on his neck. 'Was that for real?' John asked himself. He also noted that she looked a little frightened, and she and Andy exchanged a quick glance. Andrew paused, and then stood up, offering his hand out to Bender.

"Here, do ya need help getting back up? Why don't we get into the car and warm up a little, hunh?" He urged, extending his hand further to John. Bender's mind kicked back into gear, as he absorbed the fact that both of the people he was suspecting might commit 'treason' against their pact were sticking to their word, and being real friends. 'Lucky for me, we got super-jock here. At least he's not acting like it. And Claire… Claire is being so nice…' John thought silently. He was embarrassed about needing help, especially since Claire was there, and had just seen him be sick, too. 'Well, I might as well be nice then…' he concluded, as he looked at Andy's hand.

"Thanks, Sporto," he said. He wondered briefly whether he should just call Andy by name, because the guy didn't really want to be a sport, now did he? But currently, thinking about that was not going to give any help to his predicament, so he just let it go.

Getting up was going to be more difficult than just a hand, and Bender knew it. He was ashamed about his injuries, and he was pretty sure they didn't know about his ribs yet. On top of that, what was he going to tell them? How could he explain a broken nose, cracked ribs, and a cut on his head- without telling them about his father? Of course he had shown them the cigar burn, but that was to prove a point, and believe me, he regretted it. Only one or two of his pot-head 'friends' had known about his home life before he had told everyone in detention. After all, several of them led lives similar to his, even though they were probably up a notch on the 'parental scale'.

Once again, he looked up towards their faces, as Claire stood up. Andy was starting to look slightly irritated, presumably at the fact that Bender hadn't acknowledged his hand yet. John realized that he had to say something, or they might think he didn't want _their _help and blow him off, and he just wasn't sure he could make it anywhere on his own. Besides, he would get to sit in the car with the princess.

"Yeah, uh, thanks and all. But um…" 'Man, how the fuck am I supposed to say this? Me, _the criminal_ of Shermer high school, can't get off the ground without help from the jock and the princess,' However, a niggling thought told him he shouldn't be calling them that…He shifted uncomfortably on his knees. Andy and Claire were looking at one another, at a loss as to what he wanted to say. Soon enough though, realization dawned, and Claire spoke up, uncomfortable with the silence.

"Um…do you need more help?" She asked timidly. John was frightened to learn that tears seemed to be pricking his eyes, if ever so gently. Everything just hurt so much, and here these two people were -people who wouldn't have looked at him at any time except to whisper, or maybe laugh at what he did -helping him get off the ground after his father had beaten him. 'That detention is really shakin' things up. God, what's the world doing, spinning backwards?' He asked himself. 'Hopefully, it's better off spinning the wrong way,' the softer side of his mind (the part that had greatly enjoyed that gentle kiss in the closet) responded. 'Yeah, yeah, that's right. Take what you can Bender,' he encouraged his mind silently. John met Claire and Andy's eyes.

"Uh, yeah. That would be great, Claire," He responded, looking into her eyes as she smiled softly. As she bent down to grab his arm, he whispered into her ear: "Thank you."

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So, how was it? Please review, and thank you so much to all who have already done so! I am so thrilled to learn what you like about my writing. And thank you also for any constructive comments. If you would really like to talk about something I've written, or recommend a story to me, anything, e-mail me, it's in my profile.

So, was this Bender to your liking? I think I got a good balance of his angsty-ness andhis funny side. If you'd like to see more of either of these, or if you think the balance needs a little work, don't hesitate to tell me! Okay, thanks for reading! Look for the next chapter soon, hopefully tomorrow! Have a psychedelic day!

The tangled web we weave


	5. More than buddies

Author: The tangled web we weave

Archive: Sure, just tell me.

Review: Yes!

Disclaimer: Not mine : ( But if I want them enough, I can make them do what I want, which is what happened for this story.

Warnings: Not really. Unless you're squicked by pain, or something. (Sorry, no hospital bed for Bender yet, although it might be coming soon! We'll just have to see…)

Alrighty, this is the fifth chapter! Woohoo! There's a bunch of Bender, and Claire and Andy, and although Bender is still hurting, I tried to put a little more funny stuff in this chapter - tell me if you like it. I think I should have the next chapter by tomorrow, and let me tell you, what I've got planned should be interesting. And btw, sry, this is a little bit of a filler, although there's some definite character development. Alright, sorry for keeping you! Quick, go enjoy!

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Chapter Five: More than buddies...

_As she bent down to grab his arm, he whispered into her ear: "Thank you."_

Claire gently pushed the strands of dark hair that had escaped from behind John's ear out of the way, and responded by leaning forward to place a quick kiss on the soft skin of his neck. He looked at her with a quiet stare, asking her with his eyes: 'Why did you do that?'

Claire took a breath to answer the unasked question, but their moment was interrupted by Andy clearing his throat. John broke away from Claire's eyes to give Andrew a scowl, but Claire found the grass very interesting all of a sudden. What _was_ she doing kissing John Bender in a public park? Sure, he was hurt and all, but she was going to have to explain to all her friends tomorrow if they were seen together… 'What if I don't have the guts to stand up to them? I'll hurt him so much more…' She worried.

However, when she stopped studying the damp grass, she found John's eyes again, and realized the extent of his feelings for her. He looked sad, but hopeful, and his need for someone to love and to reciprocate that love was almost tangible. She pushed all thoughts of school aside, and carefully took hold of his upper arm, giving him a reassuring flash of her smile. Andy was also taking a hold on John's other arm, and both Claire and John noticed his apologetic look.

John turned his gaze to the ground, obviously embarrassed by their help. His old mantra of 'Deal with it. Their pity isn't what you want,' could not help him in this situation. He found that it was actually comforting to have someone worry about you for a change. 'Especially if they kiss you softly, as though they are trying to make everything better,' John said to himself, thinking of the ticklish sensation her lips gave him. John was pulled out of his memories of Claire's kisses though, when a sharp pain lanced through his side. He couldn't quite stifle a groan, and both Andy and Claire suddenly stopped trying to help him to his feet.

"Are you okay? John, what's the matter?" Claire asked frantically, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder as he winced.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked, in a calmer tone of voice. John still had his eyes closed, and was taking shallow breaths. Andy realized that they had to know exactly where John was injured, because he had found out from experience that if you ignored the pain, it would come back to kick you in the ass later on. He spoke up, although he was loathe to interrupt another of Claire and John's 'intimate moments'.

"John, we don't want to make anything worse. Tell us what's wrong so we can help." Bender finally opened his eyes, and Claire was worried to see that he looked ticked off. She knew that he was putting up his defenses again.

"I'm fine." He responded curtly. Andy looked to Claire for help. 'This guy really is a stubborn ass,' he thought to himself. Yet Andy also came to the conclusion that if, like Bender, you were used to people pounding on you at the first sign of vulnerability, you had to shield yourself somehow. 'And that's all Bender's ever done, for his whole life,' he realized. All of a sudden, Bender didn't seem so hard and tough after all. Andy was amazed at what he had learned about John Bender just by getting to know him over two days. He brought himself back to the issue at hand though, and Claire was looking intently at John.

"John, come on. We should get into the car, don't be stubborn. I want to know where it hurts so that I won't make it worse. I'm not going to make fun of you." She added quietly.

'Damn, that woman knows where to hit!' John thought to himself.

Although he was slightly annoyed with her method of prodding, it worked, and he knew it. He gave her a trademark John Bender glare, then reluctantly, he placed his hand over the offending ribs. Andy reached out to lift up both of John's shirts, and John quickly slapped his hand away.

"Now you know where it's screwed. But please, keep your hands to yourself." He said sternly. "There will be no fooling around in front of the lady." John added in a slightly mocking tone, motioning with his thumb at Claire. He really wasn't interested in being examined by Sporto, no matter how well they got to know one another. 'But why not make it fun? Maybe it'll get Claire to smile that cute little smile,' He thought to himself. Andy put his hands into the air.

"Alright, alright. But that's not what you said the other night." He retorted, catching onto John's attempt to lighten the mood a little. Claire snorted, trying to hide her laughter behind a well-manicured hand.

"Okay, enough you boys." Claire looked over at John, noticing that he was shivering slightly, although he was putting up a smirk for her benefit.

"Let's get going." She said, nodding at Andy. He toned his smile down a little, and he nodded in response.

"Here, I'll take this side," he said, motioning to Bender's left side, the one without the damaged ribs. "I'm gonna put his arm over my shoulder, and you gotta get his other arm, but don't touch his ribs," Andy said, lifting John's left arm up.

"Yes, of course," John said. "But don't worry about talking about him like he's not there…" The corners of Claire's mouth twitched, but she said:

"You're not helping, you know."

John simply flashed a smile.

She looped her arm through Bender's, as Andy's arm snaked around John's back, supporting him with his hand under Bender's right shoulder.

"Okay, We'll lift on three. John, you better be ready to stand up; it's harder to lift you up than it is to knock you down," Andy stated matter-of-factly, as though it was simply an observation. John would have given him a nice scowl if they were facing one another.

"Haha, very funny Sporto. But I think you'd have a hard time anyway," John responded knowledgably. Andy looked at him with a bemused expression. He really wasn't in the mood to have John whip out his switchblade. However, what Bender said next made him laugh. "I mean, you don't have your super tights, right?" Claire started laughing as well.

"Damn! I can't believe I forgot them again!" Andy said jokingly. Their laughter gradually died down however, and they once again focused on the fact that Bender was still on the ground, and they could feel him shivering through his clothing. Not to mention that both Andy and Claire were starting to feel numbness creeping into their hands and feet.

"Okay then, that car is starting to sound real nice man," Bender said. "I can't really feel my feet any more, you?" He queried.

"I dunno. Not really. But okay, here we go." Andy looked at Bender one last time for confirmation, and John took a deep breath and nodded the go-ahead. "1 - 2 - 3 - lift!" Andrew said, and both he and Claire pushed off the ground, trying to keep John level and steady on the way up.

John could feel the skin around his ribs stretching; although Andy had an arm wrapped around his back, his arms were still above his body, pulling his chest upwards. He tried as hard as possible to grit his teeth together, but that only hurt his nose. He couldn't keep it in any longer, and he gasped as both Claire and Andy got to their feet. They both gave him worried glances, and Claire rubbed her thumb back and forth on John's arm, trying to be reassuring. She could see that his eyes were closed tight, and he was breathing very shallowly again. He was swaying a little, and his legs were all pins and needles as circulation began to flow through them.

The world was spinning once more, and John didn't like it. Why couldn't it just stay in place? But he felt something on his arm; Claire's touch was anchoring him, and the world gradually stopped its whirling dervish act. Unfortunately, the spinning was replaced by his ribs protesting at movement.

"Agh! Fuck, that's annoying!" John said in a tight voice. Claire looked past Johnto Andy, not sure whether they should continue to Andy's Bronco, or sit Bender down on the bench. His face was looking pretty pale, and he was definitely shaking. Claire nodded her head towards the bench, but Andy shook his head 'no'.

"The sooner we get to the car, the sooner you can sit down, okay Bender?" He was trying to balance John, which was harder than he thought.

"Yeah. Whatever you're gonna do, ya better do it fast, Sporto, before I drop you two and run to the car." John laughed shakily, trying to ignore his stinging body.

"Come on Claire, we should get him walking." They began to steer Bender toward the car, as he took unsteady steps. He had his head bowed over, and his long, dark, hair had fallen over most of his face, hiding the bruising and the cut on his temple. As Claire looked at him and held his arm, she couldn't believe that yesterday this guy had been taunting her, and trying to get into her skirt from under a table. He seemed like a completely different person, except for his sense of humor and his stubborn ways. Claire also admired how much inner strength he had - if he couldn't pull pranks and make Vernon's life hell, hea had a very tough time getting through the day. And hey, if he hadn't pissed Vernon off, they never would have been in that closet...

In her mind, they were in the closet again; but this time, he looked as he did now, rather bad off, and she was comforting him. 'Would he let me do that?' she asked herself as they were nearing the red and white Bronco. Claire was suddenly determined to find out more about the 'bad-ass, drug-doing, prank-pulling, criminal' who she knew had to have a heart in there somewhere. And she didn't mind who knew about it.

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So, was that okay? I know that it was kind of a go-between thing, but there's definitely going to be some action in the next chapter, which I hope to have up by tomorrow, which is Thursday. There might even be an appearance by one (possibly both) of the other Breakfast club members, but I still have to work a few things out. I think there's also going to be some more angst in the next chapter, so get ready! And I wanted to say thank you to all of those who reviewed (I might have a more personal thank-you at the top or bottom of the next chapter, k?)! I tried to incorporate some of your suggestions (including the Bronco!). Come back soon!

The tangled web we weave


	6. Claire provides Care

Author: The tangled web we weave

Archive: Yup, just let me know please.

Review: Always!

Disclaimer: You know. None are mine. I wish Bender was.

Warnings: No, I don't think so. Unless, of course, you can't bear to read about Bender in pain…

So, here is the sixth chapter - yay! Now, I was planning on going a lot further in this chapter, but I just couldn't finish it in one go. I will definitely be adding more tomorrow, but on Saturday I leave for a 3 week camp! Sorry! However, I will continue to write, and will post lots of stuff when I get back - never fear! And don't worry, the next chapter will _absolutely_ have some good stuff in it, okay? Alright, here we go….

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Chapter Six: Claire provides Care…

After what seemed like an eternity of stepping carefully over cracks in the pavement, increasing their hold on John as his feet dragged over loose stones, and several sharp intakes of breath by Bender, the odd-looking party finally reached Andy's Bronco. Now came the dilemma of getting an exhausted John into the back of the red and white truck.

"Um - hate to break into - this wonderful party," Bender said between breaths, "But how exactly were you planning - on doing this?" he finished. Andy looked a little uncertain for a moment, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. 'Must be tired,' he thought, as both he and Bender stifled yawns.

"Well, obviously-" Andrew and Claire both started at once.

"Sorry, you go," said Andy, letting Claire tell Bender what he hoped was the same idea that he had.

"One of us will just keep your big hide propped against the car," Claire began, trying to maneuver John so that his back was to the Bronco. 'Providing that you don't fall over' she added inwardly, noting that she didn't get so much as a scowl from him for that remark. "And the other one of us will open the car."

Working together, Andy and Claire managed to gently prop Bender against the candy-cane-colored truck. He leaned his head backwards, resting it against the window pane, as Claire tried to open the trunk door with frozen fingers. Andy had pulled his arm out from behind John's back, so that Bender could lean evenly against the painted steel without anything putting pressure on his rib cage.

As Claire fumbled with the rear latch, she suddenly thought of something. "Wait. Shouldn't we put him in the front seat?" She said, leaning around the side of the car.

"I'm not sure..." said Andy. "I think he should go in back..."

'There they go again…' thought John, rolling his eyes.

"Ya know, I am right here…" he remarked, lifting his head up. As Andy and Claire continued to talk, his voice grew louder. "And I wanna lie down and go to sleep." He finished testily, crossing his right arm over the left one, which was already pressed against his throbbing ribs.

Claire came around to the side of the truck, an unsettled look on her face.

"I don't think that's a good idea John, you look like you have a concussion-" She was cut off as John sighed as dramatically as was possible.

"When have I ever given a damn about what someone else thinks?" John pointed out. Even though he said that though, he could think of at least one time…

_There was the soft feel of her lips gliding over his own…her hair brushed against his cheek, as she leant in for a kiss…_

When John realized that Claire was standing impatiently at his side, boring a hole into his head with her eyes in a very motherly fashion, he let out a resigned sigh. 'That girl definitely has got something on me,' he decided, as she began to wrap her arm around his once more.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, and right now it would be a good idea for you to sit down before you fall down,' she remarked gently. She waved Andy closer with her other hand, and she conferred with him in a hushed voice.

"Do you think we should put him in the back?" Claire asked, worry evident with her tone. Andy looked doubtful.

"I don't know. I guess it might be better for him to lie down, and not move those ribs any more. I mean, if they're broken, and one of them gets too close to his lung…" he trailed off, looking away from Claire's frightened eyes. She shut her gaping jaw, and nodded swiftly, looking back to John, who had his head leaned against the side of the car again.

"Hey, John." She gave his arm a squeeze, and he brought up his head slowly, focusing his brown eyes on hers. "Come on; you can lie down in the back, so, you… uh…" Images of a bleeding lung were dancing through her mind, and Andy came to her aid.

"You could hurt your ribs a lot more if you're sitting up," he explained quickly, not wanting to go into detail about something Bender probably had knowledge of.

"Yeah. Yeah I know. I've seen the worst happen before," John responded with a far-off look on his face, as though he were replaying the incident in his mind. Claire had to blink to keep back tears which were evoked by the melancholy in his voice.

She decided to change the subject. She cleared her throat, and the grimace that had appeared in sympathy for Bender slid off of Andy's face.

"Bender, let's get a move on," Claire said, gripping John's arm tighter, and Andy followed suit. John came out of his reverie.

"Yeah, that sounds good," he responded, looking at Claire with a silent thanks.

They managed to open the trunk hatch, and with a lot of grunting, groaning, and effort (as well as a good deal of pain for John), they eventually had Bender sitting, panting through his mouth, on the bumper of the Bronco.

John was so tired; he thought he could keel over right there. 'But Claire said I'm supposed to stay awake. Right, I knew that. But I want to sleep…' his body protested anyway. His nose had swollen so much so that he couldn't breathe through it, and his head had begun to pound mercilessly. Somehow though, he couldn't resist a chance for a good comment. Claire was clambering into the back of the Bronco with him, and she came towards him so that they could get his feet into the trunk as well.

"Hmm…so I've got the princess all to myself?" He queried, trying to smirk mischievously.

"Yeah, but only if you behave, mister," she retorted, throwing a fake punch to his arm.

"I'll take that…" he muttered, as he began to push himself towards the back of the seats in the truck. Claire crouched down, and slowly swung his legs around by the combat boots, so that his back was against the inner side of the trunk. Andy closed the back hatch, and walked around to the driver's side of the car.

"Well, I never would have thought of that," John remarked tiredly, as Claire scooted over to hisleft side.

"You're supposed to lie down, you know," she said gently.

"Thank you, nurse Claire!" He responded, but he began to slide down until he was curled up on his left side. Besides, sitting up did hurt, and this way he could get a good look at Claire's thighs. Seemingly reading his mind, Claire threw a dirty glance at him, before crossing one leg over the other, and pulling her skirt down on her hips as far as it would go.

"No fair," Bender said, but then he felt the car's engine start up, and they began to move down the street. He looked back up to Claire, and she was staring at him oddly. To tell the truth, it kind of pissed him off; it was almost as if she was sizing him up.

"Hey Cherry, what are you lookin' at?" He asked, using his nickname for her. She started, and seemed to be looking for her answer, but just then they rolled over a hole in the asphalt, jolting the car disturbingly.

"Ah!" John exclaimed, as he bounced on the floor of the truck. His hand flew to his chest, in a vain effort to stop the pain by touching the injury. "Hey Andy! You wanna keep the fucking car on the road, man?" He yelled, looking angrily over his shoulder at the front of the Bronco.

"Sorry John. I'm trying. Just take it easy, okay?" Andy said, shooting a hurried glance backwards.

"Yeah, whatever," John muttered under his breath, grimacing as the rolling motion of the car was making him feel sick. But he felt a soothing hand on his shoulder, as Claire rolled him onto his back. She peered down at him in the dark car.

"Here," she leaned up against the inside of the trunk, and patted her lap with one hand, keeping the other flat on the floor to stay steady. "Put your head on my lap, you'll be more comfortable," she reasoned, trying to see what his reaction was in the dark. Even with only the flickering streetlights passing by, she could make out the surprise on his face.

"What?" he asked bluntly, watching her nod slowly.

'The princess, letting me put my head, on her _lap_?' It sounded very strange to him. He looked up at her eyes; they were sincere, and - curious? John was definitely unsure of what to do. He knew without a doubt that he found her attractive, in more ways than one, but he hadn't fully expected to have her actually feel for him back. And then there was the issue of it being her _lap;_ the very same one he had stuck his head into the other day during detention. 'But that was just fun,' He thought. 'This…_this _is something more, I hope,' he pondered. 'She cares about me.' He realized. Claire was watching him expectantly, and so he made up his mind. 'It's a pretty fair deal,' he said to himself. 'Why not give it a try?'

So John propped his weight up on one elbow, and pulled himself closer to Claire. She shifted over so that he wouldn't have to move as much, all the time wondering just what she was doing. She knew that it would be comforting for him to have someone there, but she also knew it would be comforting for _her._ It was a little step, but it meant that he trusted her, which she appreciated more than anything else; even more than that kiss outside the school.

She reached out to steady John as he lifted up his shoulders, scooted backwards a little, and slowly lowered his head onto her legs. He had his eyes closed, and felt so comfortable that he could have drifted off to sleep.

'Damn, she was right. This feels so nice…' he trailed off, wanting to look at her again. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see Claire giggling lightly, and he had to smirk too. They began to laugh, but eventually, Claire's laughter dissipated, and her face was graced with a more relaxed smile. John was still laughing a little, right up until he began coughing.

At first it was just one or two coughs, but then they turned into a very painful fit, leaving him groaning. Claire was immediately worried when she felt his body shaking with the coughs, and she held onto his shoulders to keep him from jerking around. He was panting now that the fit had subsided, and his face was scrunched in pain. Claire felt a pang of compassion go through her, and she did what her mother and father had done to soothe her when she was young: she began to stroke his hair.

John couldn't move, it hurt so much. All he could do was feel his chest rise and fall with each breath: in and out, in and out. He felt like a fish out of water: there was no way for him to breathe through his nose, and yet he was afraid to suck in too deep a breath through his mouth, lest he start coughing again. Soon enough though, he managed to regulate his breathing, and that's when he felt it: Claire was gently running her fingers through his hair.

Picking up strands and running them between her fingers, Claire was untangling the slightly matted locks of shaggy, dark hair. Although she found out soon enough that it was blood which had made his hair feel wet earlier, she continued to lightly pick out the tangles, and watch as the detangled hair fanned out over her legs. His breathing was evening out, and Claire noticed happily that he had found a comfortable enough position, so that he didn't wince every time the car jumped slightly.

'I'm not supposed to go to sleep…' John was telling himself, but it was so inviting. 'I think this is the best I've felt in a while,' he noted happily. However, he did realize that with a concussion, sleeping could very well be a sentence to a coma.

His eyelids were heavy, but he managed to pry them open. It took him a while to focus his eyes in the dark, but Claire's outline gradually came into view, and she was smiling softly. He wanted to say something, but his brain just seemed to be a pile of mush.

"Mmmm…." Was all that he managed to get out. Claire smirked, bringing her hand up to cover her smile. When John looked up though, he saw blood on her hand; it was in-between her fingers, and on the back of her hand; not sticky and red as it had been, but dry and crumbling. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. '_My blood_,' was all that he could think. _'My blood,_ on _her _hands,' he swallowed again, feeling sick, his eyes wide. Claire noticed his distress, and quickly leant down closer to him.

"John, are you okay? John, does something hurt?" Her voice was full of concern and compassion, but he had tuned her out.

"My god, John, what's wrong?" She stretched out her hand to stroke his hair, and he flinched. She pulled her hand away, noting his wide eyes.

"Please, John, are you alright?" Andy had been keeping his eyes on the road, and had therefore missed Claire and John's intimate re-arrangement and conversations, but at the sound of Claire's higher-pitched voice, he immediately spoke up.

"Claire, what's going on back there? What's wrong?" He was afraid to ask. 'What if Bender's ribs have already cut through his lung, and he's dying? God, what the hell is happening?' He thought impatiently, but he waited for a response from Claire.

"Andy, pull over." He turned to look back at her, and he could see her eyes glinting frantically in the light. "Andy, pull over!" She repeated more urgently.

"Yeah, of course. What happened?" He questioned again, slowing the car down. He pulled up to the curb, and jumped out of the car, running to the back and throwing open the trunk. Luckily, he was not greeted by the sight of Bender coughing up blood, but just the same, it wasn't something he'd ever thought he would see...

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Ahhh! I'm sorry to leave you like that, but it was the best place for me to stop. I have everything planned out for the next section, I just have to write it. Was this one to your liking? I hope so…I tried to make it a little angsty, and a little happy….but I thought that at this point he'd be pretty wiped out after everything, you know? Okay, so sorry for the cliff hanger, but I'm posting tomorrow. If I can, I will get another good-bye post in after that on Saturday, but I'm leaving for camp then, so I don't know. Thank you all for reading, and have a good day/night!

The tangled web we weave


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